Every year, a small group of us gather from across the state, to ride and camp for 3 days on a stretch of cattle land, right along side Lake Okeechobee.
I started out early on a chilly Friday morning, packed and ready to roll.
And, not more than 5 miles down the road, my clutch cable snapped. There I waited on the side of the road for a flat-bed, tow truck service - and a driver named Gordon.
As Gordon and I headed over to a cross-town cycle shop, he told me he'd just moved down from Michigan after getting into some kinda trouble. When recounting his current life's story, it all sounded a little sad.
Seven hours later, I finally arrived along the shores of Lake Okeechobee.
Geoff, and his wife CJ, had already set-up camp - and sittin' there, was Geoff's prized '64 BSA Scrambler - a rare 650cc Spitfire Hornet. A proud bike, and one that always draws onlookers and attention.
Circling nearby, I came across a calf carcass - more than likely from a predator.
Saturday - we had planned a long ride around the Lake. Within the first hour, two bikes broke down - "Fuzzy's" '69 Bonneville overheated, was running lean - when it was suggested that he wrap his air-intake filters with two of his 'kerchiefs', which did the trick. And then, Geoff's proud BSA Scrambler blew a primary chain 'tensioner' - and mechanically needed trailering to get back.
Back at the camp site - my time to rebuild last night's fire. Our local good guy "Fuzzy" (a true southern gentleman, sportsman and cook extraordinaire) prepped our dinner - most of which he had caught or found fresh locally.
Our dinner menu - all deep-fried in a cast iron pot with peanut oil, all dipped in buttermilk, and lightly seasoned with Martha White's Corn Meal mix;
hush puppies
green fried tomatoes
fried Crappie
frog legs
Snook
and if requested, a cup of "sweetened" select buttermilk for dessert.
Sammy Ferrell - the land owner. Always happy to have us, always happy to eat out under the stars.
By midnight, my good buddy Pete starting to yawn.
Sunday - I packed-up and left about mid-day. Had an ongoing noisy rear sprocket and chain, and was keeping my fingers crossed for that long road home.
About out an hour in, a 'pick-up' truck in front of me, sharply veered to the left, hitting a 5 foot gator trying to cross our narrow two-laned highway. I stopped, he didn't. It all seemed a little intentional to me.
